


Blow Out the Candles

by namuneulbo



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Sounding, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 20:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namuneulbo/pseuds/namuneulbo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal invites himself over to Will's house to celebrate his birthday in a very special way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blow Out the Candles

    Will had spent a decidedly enjoyable day out on the lake with a couple of his larger dogs. He did some fishing from the bank and then the dogs joined him in the rowboat to bark at the fish that were pulled up from the bottom of the lake. Some were a bit too small to be taken back to the house, so with a pang of guilt as he unhooked their gummy lips from the line, he threw them back into the dark, tepid waters. He kept three large trout on ice in his blue cooler that had to be duct taped shut to keep the dogs from nosing it open and accidentally releasing the scaly captives.

    The sun was just casting a hazy amber glow across the lake as it sunk beneath the horizon and Will rowed back to shore. His dogs jumped out first and then he followed hauling out the tackle box and cooler. He tied the boat to the dock with a tight mooring knot and tramped back to where he had parked. The dogs ignored the bed of the truck and jumped straight up onto the passenger seat in the cab and curled up on the well worn blanket that covered it. Will stroked his sleepy friends’ little heads and turned over the engine. It started on the first try and Will let a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. His birthday had been a decidedly good one this year.

 

    Pulling up to the house, Will noticed the sedate sedan parked by the back door. Hannibal was in his house. This was not wholly unexpected considering the hints he had been dropping during their last date about how he wanted to do something special for Will. However, since he hadn’t called and asked Will to meet him somewhere or tell him that he was coming out to the house, Will had let the thought slip from his mind. He walked up the drive and sat on the edge of the porch as he traded his muddy boots for a pair of sneakers he had sitting by the steps. The boots needed to be rinsed, but that could be done tomorrow. He didn’t want to keep Hannibal waiting alone in the house longer than was necessary. 

    The door knob turned and he let himself and the two dogs who had gone to the lake with him in. Pitter-pattering came from the kitchen and soon the whole Graham pack was surrounding their newly returned fellows and sniffing excitedly at their damp, slightly fishy smelling fur. Will would have to give those two baths tomorrow. He looked up from his brood and saw Hannibal standing in the kitchen doorway, apron tied around his waist and hair falling gently into his eyes. He never oiled it when he came to stay at Will’s. Somehow the rustic atmosphere in Wolftrap brought out a pastoral side to Hannibal, and while not as relaxed and control as when in his own domain, he showed comfort and ease in Will’s.

 

    Skipping pleasantries, Will walked towards Hannibal, carting his cooler of fish and asking, “Have you been feeding them scraps?”

 

    “My scraps are of the utmost quality.” Hannibal said dodging the question and accepting a peck on the cheek from his lover.

 

    Will frowned slightly, “You know Kirby is on a diet right? The vet said he is on the verge of getting canine diabetes.”

 

    “Yes, you mentioned. He was most put out to not get a snack.” Hannibal said dryly.

 

    Will looked down at the coral of dogs that had followed them into the kitchen and saw the small roly-poly boston terrier mix was staring back at him with reproach. Will reached down and lifted him up into his arms to give a consoling cuddle. 

 

    “I’m still putting the finishing touches on everything. You came back a little earlier than I expected.” Hannibal gestured to the simmering pots and sizzling pans on the stove. “I can give you a board if you’d like to gut the fish before you put them in the freezer.”

 

    Will nodded and accepted a cutting board and a knife from Hannibal. Gutting fish was almost the only important food preparation that Hannibal trusted to him. All other cuts of meat were handled exclusively by the doctor and only when the look of the vegetables didn’t matter were they left to Will to peel and chop. Food vanity was a new twist on the biblical sin and Will took some enjoyment in watching Hannibal fuss and preen over his complex dishes. Allowing for the difference in kitchen appliances and tools between their kitchens, Hannibal almost exclusively stuck to Provencal dishes when he cooked at Will’s house. That isn’t to say he hadn’t bought a ludicrous amount of new utensils for his lover’s kitchen, but Will had refused his offer of a kitchen and pantry re-haul.

    As it was a special birthday dinner that he was cooking for Will. He had prepared a tapenade ahead of time to be nibbled on before dinner. He made a light fennel salad to go with the heavy, wintery dish of daube made of course with his own special ‘beef’. The daube was emitting a divine aroma from the confines of Will’s oven, but Hannibal’s keen nose could tell that it had not yet reached its peak yet. A dish of braised beef and vegetables in wine, it was very similar to a Beouf Bourguignon, but traditionally prepared in a special earthenware braising pot. Hannibal acquired his daubière many years ago when holidaying in Provence and finding himself with an abundance of tough cuts of meat which needed long, slow cooking. They say that a daube is traditionally made with back and shoulder cuts from a bull, and the rude bull of a farmhand who had tramped manure across the imported carpets spread over the gleaming wood floors of Hannibal’s holiday home had had particularly broad shoulders. Hannibal sighs in contentment at the memory of that first tender mouthful and knows that Will will appreciate the unique steaming technique that the earthenware daubière allows.

    Will hears the soft clink of dishes behind him as Hannibal begins to set the table. Not often having guests over means that Will only possesses an intimate 4 person square table and usually the three other chairs are occupied by eagerly attentive dogs waiting for a moments lapse into inattention to grab a bite of whatever Will had been trying to eat. He takes his knife, comfortable and familiar, into his hand and slices with a slow even pressure along the belly of the fish. He swipes his fingers inside taking care not to puncture any of the innards and let their bitter fluids taint the soft sweet white flesh of the fish as he pulls them out and puts them into a separate bowl. He normally would have just thrown them away, but Hannibal’s wide cooking knowledge meant that he despaired any food waste and would no doubt take the innards and create an exquisite asian style fish broth to store in Will’s freezer use at his convenience whenever he decides to come around. Will swiftly goes through his catch and packages them properly before stowing them away in his refrigerator. As he wipes down the cutting board and kitchen surface to a clinical clean absent of any fishy odor, he feels a strong arm embrace him from behind and looks up to see a slice of baguette with a delicious mixture of capers and anchovies held before him. His hands are still dirty, so he leans forward towards the proffered food and takes one bite and then another. He lets his lips brush Hannibal’s fingertips as the last bite of tapenade is ushered into his waiting mouth. Its salty freshness livens Will’s taste buds and he makes a small hum of approval. With a pleased smirk on his lips, Hannibal releases Will to the sink where he washes up and then the two sit at the little table by the windows. The last lingering rays of sun are fading completely into dusk and Hannibal lights three wicks of the large candle which serves as his pared down centerpiece. A soft golden glow seems to surround the table and they both take their seats. Hannibal has plated the meaty stew in large bowls and has a dish of tapenade and a basket of sliced baguette on the table as well. Normally he would have prepared each slice with the spread, but he decided to give Will the option of sopping up the delicious meaty broth with some bread as well.

    When Hannibal was at the table, Will’s dogs knew better than to try and climb up onto the remaining chairs. It didn’t matter much to Will whether the dogs climbed on any of the furniture, but to Hannibal it was only acceptable for the dogs to remain at their feet. In return for their good behavior, the dogs knew that they would get special treats that only Hannibal had, so they willingly played along.

    With Will’s first bite, he knew that the dish was one of Hannibal’s special dishes. He had grown accustomed to the rich flavor which hovered between the sweetness of pork and the depth of beef, yet it never ceased to fascinate him with the minute differences in flavor that Hannibal informed him came from the rearing of the animal, its diet and lifestyle. His eyes locked with Hannibals and he read the pride and satisfaction in his lover’s gaze knowing that Will was accepting what he has provided and was accepting him. It was rare that Will joined Hannibal on his grocery excursions, but when he did it was always infinitely more pleasurable than when Hannibal went at it alone. The particular cuts he used in the daube today was a mixture of some that they had procured together and then an added fresh cut that Hannibal wanted to present on his own. The corner of Will’s lips ticked up into a brief smile at the thought of Hannibal lugging a carcass to his feet like a cat arrogantly expecting praise for its physical prowess.

 

    “My complements to the chef.” Will says as he brings another forkful to his lips, “The tenderness of this meat is unparalleled.”

 

    “Nothing pleases me more than you enjoying yourself, Will.” Hannibal’s deep voice rumbles and brushes a knee against Will’s under the table.

 

    They continue their meal trading soft words and warm glances which increased with every glass of full bodied red wine that Hannibal gracefully poured out. It was only in the relative seclusion of Will’s Wolftrap home that Hannibal allowed himself more than 3 glasses of wine and let his sharp senses bleed at the edges into a less aware state. This alone was testament to Will’s effect on the man and how their unique relationship provided a lighthouse in the suffocating fog of the ordinary and guided them to a safehaven of mutual understanding and desire.

    Normally Hannibal was loath to leave washing dishes until the morning, but this was a special occasion and he didn’t want to spend the evening further away from Will than he had to. So when they finished their meal, they stowed the leftovers and left the dirty dishes in warm soapy water to soak as they curled up together on Will’s large plush sofa. Two glasses of wine were set on the floor as they positioned themselves for maximum comfort and once they were retrieved, the remaining space on the sofa was filled by warm canine bodies snuggling up to their pack leaders. Hannibal was sitting upright with one leg crossed over the other, Will leaning into his side perpendicularly with Hannibal’s arm draped over his chest. Kirby the heavyset pug was nestled in Will’s lap and Buster the little jack russell was using Will’s drawn up knees as a tee-pee. A few of the larger dogs were laying at Hannibal’s feet and a pair of matching patchwork furred mutts were curled up like a yin yang on the sofa to his left. As Will rhythmically stroked Kirby’s upturned pink belly, Hannibal’s fingers had worked their way through the top buttons of Will’s shirt to slowly rub tiny circles on his chest.

    They sat like this in a comfortable silence, absorbed in the peaceful sounds of snuffling dogs and the whip-poor-wills calling out to one another as darkness encompassed the surrounding land. Although feeling well-fed and quite sated, something niggled at Will and he opened his mouth to quietly say his piece, “I thought that since it is my birthday, you would have gone all out with dessert.”

 

    Hannibal’s hand stopped moving and he turned to look down at Will’s dark curls resting on his chest, “You think I’ve forgotten dessert? My dear Will, we just haven’t gotten to that course yet.”

 

    Will tiled his head back and his eyes met Hannibal’s. His lover bends forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “If you’re ready, I can serve you now.” Hannibal purrs and Will’s cheeks heat up. He knows that tone of voice, and if Hannibal has been saving dessert until now, it is likely that one of them is going to be the plate. Instead of answering verbally, Will takes hold of Hannibal’s hand on his chest and brings it to his lips, kissing his four thick knuckles. Taking silent cues from the change in the atmosphere of the two men, the dogs who had been cuddling with them on the sofa lumber sleepily onto the carpet and pile up with the larger dogs in a sleepy heap leaving Will more freely able to move. He turns to Hannibal and the older man cups the left side of his face with a large hand and strokes his bearded cheek with his thumb while looking deep into Will’s eyes. When Hannibal does this, Will almost feels hypnotized by his steady gaze and the gentle repetitive motion of the thumb stroking his cheek. His eyes flutter shut as Hannibal leans forward and their lips meet in a gentle kiss that slowly becomes more firm and then they both part their lips to let their tongues slide against one another. The warmth of another’s mouth feels oddly cool against your own and a rush of blood to the head has made them both light-headed. Hannibal is the first to pull back and say in a voice heady with desire, “Let’s go to the bed.”

    Will nods and they stand up. Hannibal takes his hand and they walk to Will’s bed, which has been cleaned, made and covered with a loose sheet that Will doesn’t remember owning. Noticing his slightly surprised expression, Hannibal says, “I brought it for quick clean up. No need for your linen to get soiled.”

    That question answered, Will kisses Hannibal’s cheek and brushed back the hair that has fallen over his brow. No-one plans ahead like Hannibal. 

Hannibal kisses Will full on the mouth again, but with more gusto than when they were on the sofa. One arm wraps tight around Will’s waist, holding him close and the other reaches down to knead his pert ass. Will’s arms naturally circle Hannibal’s neck and his hands slide into the doctor’s hair as if he was trying to pull Hannibal even more impossibly close. The pressure of Will’s hands on the back of his head encourage Hannibal to open his mouth wider and nip Will’s bottom lip with his blunt teeth. Will moans and his fingers dig into Hannibal’s scalp while his hips involuntarily grind forward onto Hannibal’s. They both are half erect and the friction felt between their growing hardness and the fabric separating them urges their needy kisses further. Hannibal steps forward with Will still in his embrace until the backs of Will’s knees come into contact with the mattress and he nearly falls onto it, but is held up by Hannibal. The doctor holds him steady in this precarious position and slowly starts to unbutton his shirt with one hand while nipping at Will’s ear. He noses the crook of Will’s neck and breathes in the slightly musky scent as his hand goes from unbuttoning Will’s shirt to unzipping his jeans. Once all the fastenings are released, Hannibal steadies Will on his own two feet and commands, “Strip. Then lay on your belly on the bed.”

    As Will complies with his lover’s orders, Hannibal goes to the bedside cabinet and pulls out a few things and lays them to one side of Will on the bed. Will turns to look and catches a glimpse of a thick white candle, a box of matches and a peculiar long thing box. Hannibal, still clothed, puts a hand on Will’s lower back and says, “I’m going to give you a massage first,” and then climbs onto his back resting lightly on Will’s buttocks bearing most of his weight with his thighs. His hands start right above where he is seated and slowly move their way up Will’s back in a strong pushing motion. He repeats this a few times, letting Will relax under his hands before he really starts to dig into the knots that have taken root in Will’s shoulders and the tightness in his neck. Hannibal’s hands which are so skilled when massaging a rump of beef with a dry marinade, let their pressure sink deep into Will’s muscles with his surgeon’s accuracy. Hannibal really is a man of both the cerebral and physical worlds. Training himself towards perfection in both arena, and Will, as his partner, reaping the benefits of both. Once Will has completely melted into the mattress due to the extreme prowess of Hannibal’s hands, Hannibal picks up the large white candle and lights it. Will can guess what is coming and his cock twitches against his belly and his hips rut slightly into the mattress. Hannibal grins and while waiting for the candle to build up a sufficient pool of wax as it sits on the bedside table, he takes his time kissing Will’s every vertebrae and licking stripes up each of his ribs. Will loves it when Hannibal dissects him with his tongue, breaking him down to his core parts with kisses. He can feel a drop of precum leak from the tip of his erection, staining the bed sheet underneath.

    Sensing that the candle was ready, Hannibal stops his ministrations and leans forward to retrieve it from the bedside table. As he does, his clothed erection presses into Will’s back, proving to him that Hannibal is getting off on this just as much as he is. Hannibal extinguishes the candle and holds it high before dripping a few test drops onto his own arm, making sure the wax wasn’t so hot as it would burn the tanned flesh of Will’s back. Tension builds as Will waits for the first drop in eager anticipation. Just when he was about to voice his impatience, a splash of heat hits his right shoulder blade. He hisses in pleasure as the heat mellows and the wax cools to a hardened dime. The next few drops are soon to follow and each one is like a brand of devotion from Hannibal. Looking down at Will’s wax splattered back, Hannibal starts to see constellations form in their patterns and feels as if the universe is being reflected back at him through the gorgeous medium of Will’s toned back. His whole world at his fingertips, panting with the pleasure derived from his actions. The melted wax has cooled enough for Hannibal to drawn thin lines, pouring it down Will’s spine and connecting the constellation of dots to the main stem as if painting a waxen tree of life. They let the wax cool completely and then Hannibal goes to remove it so they can move to the next part of his devotional plan. Will’s skin is flushed and raw as Hannibal takes a small plastic scapula and gently scrapes the wax off his back. Each round red mark is kissed and licked, the saliva cooling in the air counter balancing the remaining heat from the wax. Will shivers when Hannibal blows across his back and all the wet marks tingle. Hannibal climbs off of Will and urges him to turn over. His face and chest are flushed with desire and his erection is leaking against his belly. Hannibal’s eyes devour the wanton sight and immediately he takes Will into his mouth.

    The bitter precum melts onto Hannibal’s tongue as he bobs up and down on Will’s turgid member. He takes Will’s sack into one hand and fondled him as his tongue swirls his erection’s purpled tip. Will’s hips buck up towards the wet heat of Hannibal’s mouth, but Hannibal remains in control. Will’s hand slides under Hannibal’s shirt and strokes his back out of the pure need to touch and participate. However, Hannibal pulls back and smiles lovingly down at Will.

 

    “We can’t have you coming just yet,” Hannibal says and reaches for the long slim package.

 

    Will looks to it in confusion, but doesn’t protest. Hannibal opens it and selects something from inside. As he draws it out, Will can see that the object is a long, very slim birthday candle; the kind that people put on cakes in Chinese restaurants. He unconsciously licks is lips and a hand reaches up to squeeze Hannibal’s clothed thigh.

    Hannibal’s large hand wraps around Will’s erection and holds it firmly perpendicular to Will’s prone body. His eyes meet Will’s and he puts the end of the candle to his lips, slowly pushing it several inches in and when he pulls it out, it is slick with spit. Will swallows hard and nods in accent to the unasked question in Hannibal’s eyes. Hannibal takes the rounded wax-covered end of the candle and presses it gently, a few millimeters into Will’s slit. A sharp gasp from Will and the clench of his hand on Hannibal’s thigh come as a response. Hannibal pushes the candle a fraction further and a soft cry of, “More,” spills from Will’s lips.

    It is a strange sensation to feel something entering where something usually only exits from and Will can hardly hold in his moans as Hannibal slowly and surely inserts the thin candle deeper and deeper into his length. He stops when he reaches the half way point and then starts to gently move it up and down in mock thrusting motions. Hannibal’s hand at the base of Will’s erection squeezes in time with each withdrawl and entrance. Will tries his best to stay as still as possible, but his back arches and while one hand gropes Hannibal’s thigh, the other plays with one erect nipple. He can see Hannibal looking from his aroused expression and back to his handiwork with sheer lust. Then Hannibal settles the candle again halfway down Will and deftly lights a match with one hand and uses it to light the exposed wick. The candle sticking out of Will glows and Will can’t help but to grin. A few wax droplets trickle down the long thin stem of the candle and tiny hot pinpricks of pleasure pierce Will as they land on his engorged head.

 

    “Are you going to make a wish?” Hannibal asks in a deep purr. He is poised to blow out the candle.

 

    “Shouldn’t the birthday boy being blowing out the candle?” Will jokes through his arousal. 

 

    Hannibal grins impishly at him and replies, “I like putting a new spin to tradition.”

 

    He leans close and blows out the candle. As its smoke flows from the burnt wick, Hannibal slowly and gently removes the candle from Will and discards of it. In a flash his mouth is encompassing Will in its rich heat again and spreading his legs. Will cries out as a spit-slicked finger works its way inside him and hits its mark, shooting stars into his eyes. Hannibal takes Will down to the root and Will pushes down with one hand on the back of Hannibal’s head to thrust into his throat. Hannibal feels his gag reflex hit and his throat constricts around Will. Hannibal’s finger hits its target once more and Will cries out his name as he comes into Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal swallows every drop and extracts his finger from within Will. He moves to kiss Will on the lips and then makes quick work of the clean up.

 

    Will comes out of his orgasmic daze and calls out to his retreating lover, “What about you?”

 

    Hannibal turns around and motions to a patch of wetness seeping through his trousers, “Your pleasure is my pleasure,” he says. He continues tidying up and the goes to rummage in the kitchen, leaving Will to situate himself beneath the covers. When he returns, he is holding a bowl with another one of the long thin candles alight and sticking out of it. He climbs into bed with Will and before handing him the bowl says, “I believe the birthday boy must blow out his candles.”

 

    Will grins and does just that.

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea when watching a clip of a birthday party on some tv show and they used these really long thin candles and of course my mind went there and I had to follow. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
> 
> I did consult a BDSM guide for using wax and according to them, birthday candles tend to run hot and are not ideal for wax play, but I liked the image to much to go for the realism of the sex act. That being said, please don't copy anything from this story with a real partner unless you follow the wax play guidelines found in many places and make sure that everyone involved is safe. This is the page I used, [HERE](https://www.asubmissivesjourney.com/community/2012-02-07-19-21-15/bdsm-related-pages/bdsm-how-to-s/1333-the-complete-how-to-of-wax-play).


End file.
